


Putting Sorrow On My Shelf (Painting a Picture of You)

by CycloneRachel



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, One Shot, Painting, Set After Season 3, also this was inspired by some friends on discord, title comes from 2 lines from runaway by aurora, you know who you are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 02:31:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15809517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CycloneRachel/pseuds/CycloneRachel
Summary: While trying to help Brainy find a hobby, Kara asks him to paint something beautiful- and he, naturally, paints her.





	Putting Sorrow On My Shelf (Painting a Picture of You)

It wasn’t like they didn’t _try._

Kara certainly did her best to find a hobby for Brainy, something to keep him occupied in the 21st century when he wasn’t working.

(Which, to be fair, was most of the time, at his own insistence. But Alex wanted to make sure he wasn’t overworking himself, so she enforced at least some free time, and so Kara’s search grew more urgent)

It started with video games- a completely logical option, and Kara thought he’d be a natural. But he grew frustrated, both with how there seemed to be a lack of logic in how the games were designed, and in how to control them, so he quit and never looked back.

Lena contributed that he try to learn chess, which he liked at first- but he wasn’t used to the setup of her version, as he’d grown up using a virtual variety with different rules. So he gave up on that, as well, and Lena accepted that, and put it away- albeit with an offer to let him play again, if he ever wanted to.

There were other ideas- all sorts of musical instruments, different types of games, even some sports that Kara thought would be easy enough for him to learn.  
(Alex even suggested knife-throwing, although _that_ was quickly vetoed)

But he rejected them all, or one of them decided there was no point in continuing in something he didn’t like. They only made him feel lonelier, more distant from his true home- pointing out, in vivid detail, again and again and again, that he didn’t belong. That there was nothing he truly wanted to do outside of work, here, as long as his friends were risking their lives for him and he was left alone in a time that didn’t make sense to him, even with the most mundane subjects.

“You know, I do not need any of these.” Brainy told Kara one day, when they were in her loft after she and Alex decided to take him to the alien bar and teach him pool (which went disastrously- almost as bad as Winn trying the same). “They are, in actuality, distracting me from why I am truly here- which, I suppose, was your point. And I respect that you are attempting to making me feel more like I am at home. But the truth is, this will never _be_ my home, so you may as well just let me work as much as I can, so before you know it, I will be gone, replaced by the person you truly _want_ to be here.”

“Oh, Brainy…” Kara said. Her hand moved closer to his, on the couch, but didn’t quite touch it, as she had no idea whether or not he was comfortable with that. “I can’t deny that all of us do miss Winn, and want him to come home as soon as he can. But I think I can speak for everyone when I say we also want you to be comfortable here, while you are, and really experience everything good about this time- even if you don’t think there’s much to appreciate.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“I do.” Kara said. “And this may not be your home, or feel like it yet, but we want it to be- and I, especially, also don’t want you to feel alone. You _can_ enjoy yourself, just like I did after I got used to living here when I first started living with the Danvers.”

She looked around her loft, for something else- anything else- that Brainy could try doing. Just one more thing, that might convince him she had his best interests at heart.

(He knew she did. But at the same time, he couldn’t stop wondering, couldn’t stop _worrying_ \- and that alone stopped him from doing anything that even he might consider enjoyable, while he was there.)

“You remember Streaky?” she asked, suddenly, turning to him.

“Of course.” He answered. “As I recall, you taking care of him helped you to become more gentle, and to feel like a human.”

“Yeah.” She said. “Yeah, that’s it.”

“But that is not my problem.” Brainy answered, confused. “What relevance does that have for me?”

“Well, after learning to be gentle, and not being afraid of my strength anymore, one of the things that I tried was painting.” She said, going over and taking out her paint set, and her easel. “You know what that is, right?”

“Yes…” Brainy answered. “But I have never quite learned how to do that. It was not taught to me.”

“You can learn on your own.” Kara said, gently putting one of her paintbrushes into his hand, and a palette in the other. “I know you’ll figure it out. Just try, and if you don’t like it I’ll find something else.”

“But-“ Brainy said, hesitating. “What should I paint?”

“Anything that comes to mind.” She answered, grateful he wasn’t protesting it yet. “I won’t watch.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Kara answered. “I don’t want this to be something you feel pressured by. Just…relax. Paint whatever you feel inspired by. The most beautiful thing you can think of, maybe, if you need something specific. Alright?”

Brainy thought about it, for a moment. _She_ wasn’t a thing, not at all, but he did want to follow her instructions as closely as possible. So…

“Yes.” He said, an image already forming in his mind of what he wanted to paint. “I understand.”

“Great!” Kara answered. “I’ll be back later, okay?”

“Okay.”

She turned to leave, giving him one more smile as she did.

He wished he could capture that moment, and paint her exact expression, how much she believed in him and wanted him to be happy. But he only had a limited time, and he sensed he would have to practice a lot before finally committing her image to the canvas.

So, there was no sense in not starting immediately.

After all, he had a long way to go.

~

About halfway through painting her hair (painstakingly replicating every curl, the different shades that exist within it, how it shines when the sun hits it at a certain angle-), he wondered how she’ll react to the painting.

He hoped she’d enjoy it, certainly. He wanted her to.

He just wasn't sure how she’d feel, about having an image of herself in her apartment, especially one that may not even end up being anything impressive.

And then there was the moment that he pulled from to design it in the first place. Even though it was pleasant, in a vacuum, the situation she’d been in at that point was still something she may not want to remember, and she certainly wouldn’t want a constant reminder of it in the very loft that had been replicated in her mind. 

Then again, she’d surprised him enough- especially when they first met, and after momentary surprise, she pulled him in without hesitation instead of punching him in the head when she first laid eyes on him, which was one of the many things he’d expected and prepared himself for.

And since then, she had only been beating the odds, and surprising him again and again with what she said and did, with her strength, and how she managed to pull through despite the weight of the world on her shoulders.

He only wished he could do the same, with what he had, but he’d spoken the truth when he said she was stronger than any Legionnaire.

There was no way he could compare to her, and no way he would impress her, even with something like this.

He considered what her reaction would be, when she did see it, and she didn’t like it.

She could choose to punch through it, of course, leaving a large hole in the canvas.

Or she could cleave it in half with her heat vision, which he’d seen her demonstrate up close and to terrifying effect.

Perhaps she’d shatter it with freeze breath, if she thought of it.

She might just throw it out a window, to slowly decompose in an alley, exposed to the elements.

Or, maybe, she would only put it in her own garbage can. That would be the worst scenario, perhaps, because it would still be there, constantly reminding Brainy of his failure in judgment, in an attempt to please her.

If this went wrong, this may have been the last hobby she’d offer to him- perhaps she and the others would give up on him, and he’d bury himself even further in work, to forget that he ever tried to have friends in this century.

Compared to him, maybe even Winslow was having success in that arena.

He didn’t like thinking about it, but… at the time, it was the most realistic train of thought, and it couldn’t be avoided, even if he tried to do so.

Not then, when he was alone, feeling as though he was stuck in his own mind-prison.

Though, this time, there was nobody to help him out.

No one to help him realize he was loved, that he needed to remember who he was and what mattered most to him, and who he mattered most to. Because those people who truly cared for him didn’t exist now, and they seemed at that moment like they never would.

He placed the paintbrush down, for a moment, looking out the window.

By sheer coincidence- or luck, perhaps- Supergirl flew by, just close enough to see him as he looked up at her.

She slowed down, and waved at him, and he tentatively waved back.

Then, she smiled at him, as he tried to cover up the painting, and as she looked right at him it was clear that he was the focus of all of her attention.  
It was slow, but he managed to give her a shaky smile in return, and she nodded, before flying away again.

He had no idea what she was thinking, during that moment.

Just a simple “Hello”, perhaps, or “Glad to see you”, or “Keep up the good work”. Or maybe, knowing her, all three.

Though he’d been on the verge of giving up, just seeing her there, in the flesh, made him happy that she was thinking of him, and that she had done so enough to spend a moment on the other side of her window just giving him a wordless greeting.

He sat down again, and with a new resolve, he picked up the paintbrush once more.

~

He supposed he could count himself lucky that her nightly patrol of the city took longer than usual, giving him time to complete the painting, and even clean himself up, appearing before her in one of his new outfits that she’d been generous enough to purchase for him.

“Brainy!” Kara said, as she walked in. Her hair looked windblown, and her eyes were tired, but she was still as beautiful as ever to him, and he had no idea what to say to her.

“I saw you were painting while I was gone.” She continued, noting the event earlier that night, when she’d pulled him out of despair and self-doubt. “But I think at that point, it wasn’t quite done. Do you want to show me the finished product?”

Brainy smiled. He wasn’t nervous anymore, knowing that whatever he would’ve ended up painting, she would never hate it. She’d never hate him, either, though he once thought the opposite.

“Certainly.” He answered, leading her over to the easel.

On it sat a new painting, for her eyes only. He’d spent so much time working on it that he practically couldn’t look at it anymore, but she was seeing it for the first time, and as she did, noticing everything, she grew more pleased, as indicated by her smile.

Of course, it depicted her sitting in her chair, beside her window. She was leaning down, eyes looking half-closed, but she was smiling as she pet Streaky, while (as Brainy had imagined) she had been talking about how the cat made her feel like a human.

It was the most beautiful he’d seen her, as Kara or as Supergirl, and he had to honor that moment by preserving it for those who hadn’t experienced being inside her mind. He had seen no other option, for when to paint her, and he was glad that he had a perfect memory, so he could honor it properly.

“Brainy…” she said, not taking her eyes off of it for the longest time. “This is…”

“Oh no.” he answered. “Is the delayed response because you do not like it? Should I… stop painting? Or try again, with something else? I only thought-“

But he had too many thoughts, to properly articulate them for her, so he shut up, only letting her look at the painting again.

“No, Brainy, I love it. This is… could I hang this up somewhere? I want everyone to see it, right when they walk in.”

“Really?”

“Really.” She repeated. “I guess we really did find your talent, didn’t we?”

Brainy smiled at her, as she looked around the room, thinking about where she could put the painting he felt a new confidence in.

“I suppose we did.”


End file.
